


Lonely Boys and Slender Men

by Not_You



Category: Slender Man Mythos, Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Body Horror, Dissociation, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Horror, M/M, Memory Loss, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Short Chapters, Supernatural Elements, Surveillance, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt for Nite Owl and Rorschach versus Slender Man.  I've been told this is very scary, your mileage may vary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories

Dan has never seen Rorschach gibber before. Sure, what they (Dan isn't even sure that's true, that he didn't just see shadows and Rorschach's terror) had seen had been weird, but weird is what masks do. They're safe in the Owl's Next now, but it doesn't seem to matter.

"Seen him before!" Rorschach nearly shrieks, after a solid ten minutes of meaningless sounds and prayer.

"When? Where?" Anything to get some sense out of him. Dan doesn't know if he's more afraid of his partner right now, or for him, but he grabs his shoulders to stop the pacing.

"Only a child." His voice has dropped to the tiny voice of a child, frightened of any sounds in the dark, even his own. "Saw him. And Daniel..." He clutches at Dan's arms, trembling all over. "He saw me." He whines sharply, a sound of pure, mortal terror, and seems only to speak again with tremendous effort. "Spoke to me." His voice cracks, and he actually steps into Dan's arms, clinging to the front of the Nite Owl uniform.

"What did he say?" Dan murmurs, trying to keep himself calm because Rorschach is freaking out enough for ten people, let alone just the two of them.

Another horrible little sound of childlike fear. "Took the rest of them. Took the rest of them!" He's scaling back up to babbling, and Dan holds him tightly. "He didn't have eyes to look with, but he looked at me." There are tears dotting his scarf, where they've been running from under the mask. His voice is a choked whisper now. "He said: Not you, Walter Kovacs. Not yet."

He knows his partner's real name. That is, for some reason, a greater enormity than all the rest. Walter Kovacs. It's clipped, brutal, and he likes the way his mouth dices up the sounds. Dan shakes his head to clear it, and presses a cup of broth into Rorschach's hands. "Come on. Talk to me." He hasn't spoken all the way here, and still seems frozen. Dan sits down on the step beside him.

"Thought it was because I couldn't bear to look at my own face." Rorschach is staring dead ahead as the broth steams, and Dan has the feeling his partner isn't speaking to him at all. "But I had just forgotten."

"Forgotten what, dammit? A mass kidnapping? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Rorschach sets the broth down and stands up. "Good. Better that way." He shudders violently, and passes a hand over his shifting face. "Daniel... Thank you. For everything." He turns and heads for the tunnel, apparently confident that Dan won't stop him. Hell, Dan doesn't realize what he's going to do until he does it, bolting after his partner and hauling him back.

"No, goddammit! I have never seen you this fucking scared ever. Whatever the hell is going on-- by the way, buddy, an explanation would be killer-- you are not facing it alone!" He's shaking Rorschach by the end of it, and makes himself stop. "Please, man." He says softly. "You're freaking me out."

Rorschach laughs, the sound not quite sane, cracking in all the wrong places. "Will tell you. But first, strong drink."

"...Seriously."

"Yes. Have whiskey?"

"Uh, yeah. Why don't you come on up?"

And so he leads his stiff-jointed partner up to the kitchen, and sits him down at the table. Pulls out two tumblers. Gives them both three fingers of whiskey, and watches in mild horror as Rorschach drinks it all in one gulp. There's a moment of frozen silence, and then he's up and hunched over the sink, mask rolled up. For a second Dan thinks he's going to throw up, but nothing come out. Just a ribbon of spit, like an animal salivating to flush poison out of his mouth. "Grah. Herrnk." He coughs, spits, stands and wipes his mouth. "Another. Drink yours."

"Jesus, Rorschach..."

"Do it."

Dan does, and watches Rorschach sip his second glass, grimacing. Under his inscrutable gaze, Dan downs his own drink. He likes whiskey, but Christ. Once he's managed the whole glass and poured another drop, Rorschach begins.


	2. Sleepover

Dan wishes it hadn't taken this to get his partner to stay over. He knows Rorschach is broke, and judging by his appetite whenever they do eat together he's way broke, and he's usually far too proud to anything but a bowl of soup when Dan is already having one himself. Tonight he makes no objections to anything. Lets Dan cram some food into him although it must sit queasily atop the raw whiskey, and it's actually his idea to sleep in the same bed. Says nothing about the extravagance when Dan already has three camcorders to set up.

"As far as we know, the bastard doesn't eat tapes, right?"

"Far as we know." Rorschach shivers, wrapped in blankets like a small child. His real face has gone unremarked between them this entire time. Dan has barely even registered the change, with Rorschach so frantic. Apparently this slender man has no face, and Dan really can't blame his partner for wanting to use his own, intractable human one.

"Well, it's at least worth a shot. I've got one in the basement, this one by the bed," he adjusts the tripod, checking the viewing field, "and I put one in the hallway, so it can see the whole approach and most of the kitchen." He straightens up, cracking his back. "And I've got enough tapes to record until Doomsday."

"...Thank you, Daniel." Rorschach says softly.

"Of course, buddy. Hell, I'm not even sure I believe, but you do and that's good enough for me."

"Or bad enough, as the case may be." He shudders, pulling the blankets tighter.

Dan sighs, and sits down beside his friend, wrapping an arm around him. "Or bad enough."

By unspoken agreement they leave the lights on, and while Rorschach (Walter? Jesus.) is terrified, he's also exhausted. Dan has a harder time sleeping, holding onto Walter (not Rorschach, not now, unmasked and instinctively pressing into human warmth) and dipping in and out of a thin, unsatisfying unconsciousness. He has a few odd dreams, and has a terrible sense that the last one, of someone looking in the window without eyes to look, is real.


	3. Breakfast

Dan wakes up properly to the morning sun and Rorschach's barely audible squeaks of terror as he watches part of last night's tape over and over. Dan can see the camera's glaring red eye, and knows it's recording now. "Buddy?"

He can't even talk, just grabs Dan's wrist and makes him watch. And there it is in grainy black and white, a stretched, horribly Rorschach-like parody of a man in a suit, tendril hands gently licking the window pane as if to melt through it. The tape tears and skips badly after that, but at least he and Walter are still in bed, still together, clinging a little in their sleep. They shiver as that awful shadow crosses them, but the window stays shut. Walter is clutching Dan's hand well past the point of pain, and whimpering softly, probably not even aware of it. Dan isn't feeling so hot himself.

"Jesus Christ."

"Wish I was insane, Daniel." Walter whispers, practically climbing into his lap. "Wish you didn't see it too."

Dan sighs. "I know, buddy. I know."

Neither of them feels like eating, but they're definitely going to need their strength if this shit keeps up. Walter checks and replaces the other tapes, all of which are clear save for a few disquieting visual tears. They sit there in the sunny kitchen over their hot oatmeal, dread filling the room like smoke. Walter pokes strange shapes into his, letting them fill with milk, then adds yet more brown sugar.

"That's more sugar than oatmeal." Dan mutters, feeling like his mother.

"Not really hungry. Wasteful. Apologies."

Dan sighs. "It's okay. But seriously, we do need to keep our strength up." He dumps more raisins into his own bowl, offers them to his partner.

"No, thank you. Ideologically opposed to raisins."

That makes Dan laugh, even on a day like this. "What?"

"They're just humiliated grapes. Sweetness is a filthy lie."

Dan cackles. "Are banana chips Communist?"

"Probably." The corner of that hard, dour mouth curls up, and suddenly the day is bearable.


	4. Essentials

"So." Dan says, when they get back from the store with another six cameras and about a bushel of tapes, "Is there anyone you should be calling or anything?"

"Second no-call, no-show in a week. Fired." Walter just shrugs.

"...Oh. Couldn't you like, call up and say there was a funeral or something?"

"Unimportant. Have no family, anyway. Daniel, this is more than mortal peril."

He shivers. "Okay. Okay, fine. Whatever. But if you're unemployed now, you're staying with me until you get back on your feet whatever happens with this skinny bastard."

"...Probably won't survive in any way that matters, but okay."

"Nice to see a show of faith."

Rorschach shudders, and they set up the additional cameras in silence. One on the roof, one to stare down the rest of the hallway, one for the guest room Rorschach won't be using, two in the Nest. They mark them off on a schematic, and start all of them with a fresh tape. They're still not hungry, but they sit and have dinner under that watchful red light, and Dan wonders just what in the hell they're going to do.


	5. Missing

It's hard to sleep that night, lying back to back with his anxious partner, that knobbly spine digging into him. "Walter," he murmurs, "Not sleeping will only make you weak and crazy."

"Know that." He shivers. "Can't help it."

"Hell, neither can I." Dan yawns, exhausted.

"Might... Might disappear. Might hurt you. Anything can happen."

"If anything can happen, isn't worrying about two things in particular a little silly?"

"Not taking this seriously, Daniel!" He barks, turning to face him. Dan shifts as well, and sighs, looking into his partner's new, shocking face.

"Yes, I am. I just don't know what to do about any of it, and neither do you. But the one thing we can be sure of is that humans need sleep."

Walter grumbles, but presses against Dan in a way that reminds him of his first dog and its dumb terror of thunderstorms, and Dan wraps his arms around him, holding Walter to his heart. He can feel his partner's rapid heartbeat, and the questions bubbling up to his lips and his worry that this is somehow wrong. "Ssshh. Go to sleep."

Somehow, eventually, they do, red recording light gleaming balefully in the dark. There are no dreams this time, but when Dan wakes up, he feels wrong somehow. Thrashing around a little, he realizes that Walter is gone, and is instantly up and searching. He doesn't check the tape. He kind of doesn't want to know what the camera saw. For now he settles for running through the house like a lunatic, calling quietly for his partner. Walter's ears are good, and Dan is afraid if he calls any louder he'll lose his fucking mind. Why the hell haven't they been sleeping in shifts? Fuck!

When he flings open the door to start searching outside only to see Walter standing on the front step, the first feeling is one of nearly crippling relief, and then renewed terror. Walter's eyes are blank, and he's clutching a convenience store bag, his skin as white as paper. "...Walter?"

He twitches all over like his own name is electricity, zapping him. "Rorschach." Dan whispers, and suddenly Walter is in his arms, clinging desperately. Dan hauls him inside and shuts the door, holding him close. "What happened?" He says into one white ear, both of them like little kids afraid to make any noise.

"Saw the tape." Walter breathes, and starts crying again.

Dan leads him to the kitchen table, sits him down and gives him intensely sugary coffee, talking to him and petting him in a way Rorschach would never allow. The bag sits on the table, and finally things are calm enough for Dan to ask about its contents. "So what did you get?"

"...Candy. Gorged on it in 1950. Felt a little better."

"Well, you can't have it for breakfast with nothing else."

"Daniel. I don't remember being there."

"Oh. Shit."

"Yes."

They stare moodily at the bag until Dan gets himself a cup of coffee and sits down beside his partner. Hooks the bag over to them and pulls out a Sugar Daddy, passing it to Walter. There's nothing tart in here, nothing the least sophisticated or restrained. Dan nibbles on a Three Musketeers bar and examines Big Hunks, Baby Ruths, Boston Baked Beans, and everything else. His fillings are twinging just looking at it, but he devours his candy bar and goes back for more, Walter gnawing on nougat. It's disgusting, but Dan does feel a little better. Not in any good way, but as the sugar settles into his system he starts to feel bloated and unconcerned enough to watch the tape.


	6. Mask

As far as Dan can tell, the second break in Walter's memory may well be entirely natural. He knows that he watched the tape, but whatever is on it definitely blew his mind in a bad way. He holds Dan's hand as they settle onto the bed, teeth nearly glued together with sugar, and grinds the small bones together in terror when Dan hits play. He doesn't mind. Barely feels it, too busy fast-forwarding past hours of safe sleep. He runs past some visual tearing, goes back. Walter squeaks in horror as his past self gets up and puts on the mask. Gloves, coat. All of it. Steps into his lifts, and Rorschach gazes down at Dan without eyes to see.

Dan shudders, and can hear his partner weeping. The silent image is calm, though. It walks out and a little down the hall, and carefully plucks that camera from its tripod, replacing the tape with a blank one. He vanishes from the field of view, and Dan shudders to think of him creeping across the ranges of the other cameras. They'll have to check. For now, he passes hours of his own restless sleep, kicking and twisting in the blankets, sometimes grabbing a pillow and holding it close. Rorschach returns at first light, and Dan puts the tape on normal speed, watching as his partner replaces the camera, and takes the tape out of it, putting the old one back in before coming the rest of the way to the bedroom. Rorschach carefully shucks his layers, lifts and mask last. His gloves are coated in something blood red, and Walter moans dismally. Dan hushes him, watching so closely he feels like his eyes might fall out. The soiled gloves go with the rest of the costume, but Walter keeps the mask on as he pulls something out of the coat pocket, and in a move that's almost sleight of hand, tucks into the back of the closet, then finally peels off the mask and crawls back into bed, shivering.

He's shaking now, making helpless little noises of horror, and Dan hugs him tightly, switching off the tape. "It's okay, buddy. But we've gotta check your gloves and the closet."

Walter nods, gritting his teeth, still shock white. "Sorry, Daniel. So sorry."

"Shut up." Dan stands, still holding his partner's hand, and leads the way to the closet. The gloves are there first, and they both sag with relief to find them still bright red. It's paint. O thank God. Dan has to hold himself up against the doorjamb, but Walter just tenses all over again, digging for the tape. "Walter!" The closet is too small for him to cram in beside his friend. "Walter, there's actually a system here if you'll--"

"No time, Daniel!" He growls, hurling things over his shoulders. "No time for-- FILTH!"

"I told you there was a system." Walter reels back, a little bit of color coming back to his face in his embarrassment and outrage. "Seriously? Even now you can care that I have--"

"Pornography, Daniel!"

He suddenly laughs, because it's just too fucking ridiculous. They're apparently dealing with an eldritch horror from beyond the beyonds, and an issue of Bitch Goddess can still throw a wrench in the works. "Are you serious?!"

"Very serious, Daniel. Nun's habit _very inappropriate_."

Dan whoops and slides to the floor. "Well, thank god you didn't open it!"

"...Yes." He manages to smile just a little, but it bleeds away too soon and Dan sobers up. Slides his crate of porno to the side, pokes around, and shudders when he finds the experimental secret compartment he built and never told Walter about. Sure enough, there's the tape, sleek and shiny and inscrutable, gleaming against the dust. Dan doesn't actually want to touch it, but he pulls it out. There's a faint smear of red paint on one side of the label, and in Walter's cramped chickenscratch, it says: WATCH THIS


	7. Reunion

Walter actually has to go and throw up from sheer nerves before they can start. He comes back wreathed in the odor of toothpaste, and sits wretchedly sipping a Coke as Dan sets up the playback.

"You don't want to know, do you?" Dan asks gently, looking up from his task.

"Have to." Walter sighs.

Dan gets the camera in order and stuffs two cheap butterscotch hard candies into his mouth, settling in beside Walter. "Ready?"

"No." Walter says, and presses play.

The screen is black, and all they can hear is clacking and harsh panting. It's hoarse and wet, keeping an obscene rhythm, each breath like something tearing. It's hard to concentrate on the clacking, but it nags at Dan's awareness and he says, "Spray paint," just as it stops. There are footsteps, and that horrible breathing is louder as Rorschach scoops up the camera. It focuses, swooping dizzily around for a while, and they can see a deserted playground, horrible and ghostly in nightvision.

There's a little visual tearing as Rorschach walks past the slide and the swings, onto the blacktop. A glove holds out an uncapped can of spray paint, and they watch as Rorschach makes a symbol on the blacktop. It's a massive ellipse with an x through it, and Walter lets out a little scream, grinding his teeth together to shut himself up. "His face." He croaks. "That's his face."

Dan shudders all over, then feels himself go pale. "Oh shit. Oh, _shit_."

There's an impossibly tall, thin silhouette on the other side of the playground. It beckons Rorschach with hands that are not hands, and he goes. Walter whines in terror, pressed against Dan's side like he wants to fuse with him. The visual tearing comes back with a vengeance and the next few minutes are incomprehensible. Then the camera stills, like it's been set down. And they can see tendril hands cup Rorschach's non-face, pulling him in almost close enough to kiss. The two just stay like that for a long moment, swaying a little, and then Rorschach is suddenly alone, standing in the center of the blacktop.

He stretches out his arms, and they reach further than they should. Dan's eyes widen to the point of pain as he watches his partner dance, tendril limbs licking at the low sky and making him want to vomit. Here and now two wonderfully human hands are clutching at him as Rorschach sobs onto his shoulder in terror.


	8. Panic

"Walter?"

He just makes a horrible little noise, and suddenly he's up and running. Dan is after him in a second, both of them blasting into the kitchen. Walter bounces off the edge of the counter in his haste, but is back instantly, scrambling for the meat cleaver. Grabbing it in one frantic hand, he lays the other on the countertop and Dan screams as he realizes what his partner is about to do.

The blade rises in a flash of silver, and falls with a heavy, wooden thunk. Dan stands there, shaking, with a white knuckle grip on the cutting board he thrust into the gap about one second before it was too late. Walter doesn't look much better, and crumples to the floor, crying again. Dan sinks down beside him, knees like rubber, and spastically kicks the cleaver away, hauling his partner into his arms, holding him tightly as he sobs, past all endurance.

It lasts for a long time, just the two of them in the sunny kitchen, Walter's hoarse sobs entirely too like the breathing on the tape. He hears it too, and forces himself to calm down, unable to let go of Dan. "Should have let me, Daniel."

"No. Shut the fuck up."

"Could eat your memories tonight. Could deliver you up to--" He gags, because he almost said, 'my father.'

Dan shudders. "You won't. Shut up."

"Will not shut up, Daniel." He mutters into Dan's sweater. "You know I'm right."

"I don't know any such thing. Neither of us knows what's going on, and we might as well stick together and try to figure it out. We're masks, dammit."

Walter chuckles reluctantly. "Bad thing to be. But we are."

"Really, I'm starting to think we should call Jon. This is way more in his line than ours."

"Not sure he could help." Walter says, and Dan can read the refusal for what it is. If Jon can't help them, Walter would like to delay the realization until he can handle it, and Dan doesn't blame him.

"We can ask later." Dan looks into the glowing eye of the nearest camera. "For now, we need to start sleeping in shifts."

"Who guards you while I dance?" Walter growls, and shudders all over.

"We'll think of something." Dan says softly, and strokes his partner's hair to comfort them both. Walter clings, and they don't get up for another hour and a half, finally making real food with no desire for it.


	9. Third Party

Ozymandias isn't sure what to think, but offers his colleagues a room, use of his state of the art surveillance system, and his own watchful eyes for the night. They can't tell if he thinks they're insane or not. He just sits down in a corner of the room with a book and a cup of tea. It's ridiculous with his mask, but Dan is glad he's there. Walter's face is hidden behind a ski mask, and he looks even more ridiculous. He turns away from Dan, but lays his spine so neatly along his partner's that they're almost one person, the most contact with the least visual impact. Dan knows Ozy notices anyway. It's always kind of useless to try and keep him from reading your body language, and Dan takes Walter's hand under the covers purely in deference to his feelings.

It's hard to sleep. Not just the terror, but with a third set of lungs in the room. Ozy's breathing is even, though. Very quiet. The only other sound he makes is the occasional turning of a page, barely louder to Dan than his own heartbeat. He counts sheep for a while, but gives it up as ludicrous. Finally pure physical exhaustion kicks in, and Dan drifts off onto uneasy seas. He dreams of his partner on fire, of himself with no face, and of vines that flower with fanged mouths. He sits up sharply, and looks around. Ozy is watching him.

"All right?"

"Yeah." Dan wheezes. "Y-yeah."

"Should I get you some water?"

"Don't leave!" It comes out desperate, and Ozy makes a soothing noise, like Dan is a frightened animal. Fuck, he is a frightened animal. A terrified, gibbering monkey. Walter is blinking up at him, eyes wide and frightened.

"Don't worry." Ozy soothes, coming over with a bottle of water. "I promised a full night's vigil."

Dan is shaking as he sucks down half the bottle, spilling some on himself. Walter holds out a hand, and Dan lets him have the rest, curling up under the blankets again. This time Walter snuggles in against his chest, audience be damned.


	10. Abduction

By some miracle, Dan sleeps again. It's not restful at all, and he wakes up thrashing in an empty bed. He's up almost before his eyes are open. "W--Rorschach! Rorschach!" He sounds crazed, and bolts out. Ozy is nowhere in sight. There's no one in the whole damn building and it could almost be another nightmare. After about ten minutes of frantic, panicked searching, he takes a deep breath and remembers that he's Nite Owl. He goes to the control room for the cameras, and they tell him more than the wants to know.

12:00 am to 4:00 am - Clear, except for insidious visual tearing. It moves from camera to camera, erratic but clearly coming from the outside in. Dan shudders, and his eyes start to burn as the pattern becomes clear. He skims through another half hour. He and Walter twitch uneasily in their sleep, and Adrian sits there in perfect calm.

4:30 am - Ozy finally looks up as the visual tearing finally reaches their room, and Dan shudders on the tape and in the flesh. He looks around and doesn't see anything, but he knows something's wrong.

4:45 am - Everything gets very confused. More tearing, static, and a low, grotesque sound. Bubbling, guttural. The image clears and Ozy and Walter are both gone.

4:50 am to 5:00 am - The disturbance retraces its steps, much worse this time.

There's nothing after that. It's almost more than Dan can do to go back into that room, but there's a camera there. He pops in a fresh tape, and a strange calm descends. He knows the path the others took, and follows it. Near the exit there's a massive splash of blood, and then little round droplets. He follows the trail for longer than he wants to think about, the tape staying clear because everything inhuman is long gone. He tries not to think about inhuman apparently including his partner, and keeps running, following the blood.

It all finally leads him to Ozymandias, crumpled in an alleyway like something very expensive thrown in the trash by accident. He's way too pale and holding something that looks like a stab wound. For a horrible moment Dan thinks he's not breathing, but when he kneels by his side he can hear it. "Ozy?"

"Nite Owl." He stares up, eyes glazed with more than blood loss. "Know what it wants, now."

Dan is about to ask just what that might be and by the just where the hell is his partner, but Ozymandias passes out, and without the blood trail it's hopeless. He carts Ozy back automatically, still filming every step. He knows he's in shock, and can't even tell if he's carrying a corpse. Able to lay his colleague out, he can see that Ozy has stopped the bleeding by cramming a wad of his cape into the puncture. His eyes open as Dan is replacing it with something less incriminating. "Nite Owl."

"Yeah?"

"I'll need a transfusion, but that's the least of our worries right now." He's hoarse, but calm. The pain doesn't seem to be getting to him. "I know why it's after your partner."

"Why?"

"Reproduction. It was human once."


	11. Floating

_...rain..._

_1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19_

_readyornothereicome_

_mad dog abortion  
jangling distortion_

_readyornothereiam  
nightmare portion  
new contortion  
ocular intorsion_

_youareaghostsonofminecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehomecomehometouscomehometous_

_cracks  
the  
through  
fall  
fall  
through  
the  
cracks_

_whereisyourfacewhereisyourfacewhereisyourfacewhereisyourface_

_...rain..._

_abortioncontortiondistortioncoercion_

_HUNGER_

_constantandtrue_

_iseeyou  
dontthinkyoucanhide  
preciousone_

_screamsoftly_

_softly_

_sleep_

Under the city, down in the dank dark slime, Walter Kovacs sleeps. Rorschach wakes up.


	12. Homing

"You shouldn't go alone." Ozymandias's voice is crisp through the faint buzzing of the phone line, and Dan twitches, wanting the whitenoise to go away.

"Ozy, hang up and call Jon. I can't wait around like this." Dan's tones are the dry, calm ones of a man who has come out the other side of profound shock, and he slots tapes into his belt like throwing crescents. His goggles sit on the table in front of him, an exploded view in physical form, feverish, ad-hoc modifications to give each lens a video feed nearly complete.

Ozymandias sighs, studying him. "Fine. Be as careful as you can."

Dan already knows the worst of it. That it was Rorschach's uncanny tentacle that made Ozy's wound, and just grunts a vague acknowledgement before hanging up. Time's a-wasting, after all. He wonders if he should call Hollis. Warn him, apologize for not showing up this week, something. But no. There's nothing he could say, and he already has a will and a goodbye letter to Hollis (and one to Rorschach) because he could die any night. If it seems sure this time, what's the difference?

He finishes the goggles, and takes a last look around the Nest. Everything is neatly arranged upstairs. Clean and clear and safe for the police to go through when they finally do a welfare check. Dan doesn't really know his neighbors, and he wonders how long it will take. Then shakes his head fiercely, because bad as the odds are, it's a good place to bring Walter, too. He pulls his goggles down over dry eyes and starts recording as he walks into the tunnel.

It's impossible to gauge the passage of time under New York. Especially when you're too fried to feel fatigue or hunger. At some point Dan forces some kind of nutrient bar down his neck, but he doesn't really want it. He goes from the subway to the sewers, and creeps along like a rat in the darkness and stench. He puts on a rebreather to keep from passing out, and skulks on. He's not even sure where he's going. That's wrong. He is sure where he's going, he just has no idea why, like a fucking homing pigeon. He's past questioning anything right now, and when the visual tears start, he's not all that surprised.

He's carrying a watch, so he knows he loses ten minutes, the feeds deeply fucked up like all the tapes from his house and Ozy's hideout. When it clears, there's the shadow of something beckoning him into a darker, closer pipe. We all float down here. He thinks, and giggles hysterically, following. He's almost expecting a clutch of balloons, but of course there's only that shadowy, coiled form. This time it's wearing a fedora, and his heart breaks.


	13. Revelation

_devourhimsohecantgetaway  
onlyoneonlyonemyonlyonedontleave_

Tentacles wrap around Dan, and he quickly loses track of how many there are. He's smothered, blinded, and chokes on the sharp tip of tentacle as it presses into his mouth, menacing as the blade of a knife but not hurting him. For the moment. It's like he can taste his partner's thoughts and they're split in two, twin ribbons winding around his soul. There are Walter's thoughts, rabbiting with terror of the dark and of being alone and of what he's becoming, and other thoughts. Strange ones, high like a high voice and high like removed. It's like Dan has to strain to hear, and the sound is worse than nails on a chalkboard.

_needyouneedyouneverleavemeneverleaveme_

Dan shudders, goggles converting to pure static as his feet lose contact with the walkway. He knows he's he's not speaking, that he can't speak around the knife in his mouth, but he thinks as loudly as he can. _Walter! This isn't you!_ At least Walter's still in there, he can tell that much, but those wavering, weird thoughts go on.

_foreverandeveramen_

_facelesschild_

_facelesschildren_

_facelessmantwentysixyearsonthevine_

And now there are images, a thousand thousand exposures of one lonely boy, and now he knows why it didn't take his partner all those years ago, from Charleton. It's been waiting. Waiting for the seeds of its presence to take root in a loveless life and grow into a faceless man, the perfect person to become another

_SLENDERMAN_

And now he can feel how human Walter still is, because that uncanny presence is back, and it is Rorschach's father, a faceless void that helped make him what he is today, and all Dan can do is hope they die together, that Walter at least can end clean, even if Rorschach goes on, a haunted shell preying on the city's children. He manages to get a hand free and switch off the video feeds. Night vision on, he can see his partner's shifting mask, and just manages to touch it. The tentacle twitches, and his mouth is full of blood.

_Love you, Walter. Always._


	14. Salvation

Walter wakes up with tears on his cheeks, and sits up so fast his vision crackles a little at the edges. "Daniel? Daniel?" He's trying not to shriek, and doing a poor job of it. At least he's in Daniel's house, not the sewers. His last memory if of twining his loathsome self around his partner, indecently assaulting him, and then a flash of blue light. He starts to cry, reflecting on his own despicable behavior, and then grits his teeth, fighting to stop to better hear a low argument in the hallway.

"--Shouldn't even be up, dammit!"

"Hollis, don't make me argue, my throat hurts." And Rorschach's heart leaps in his chest, even though he doesn't deserve to look at his partner after everything he's done. He has no idea what to do as Daniel approaches, and settles for just sitting there like a stricken rabbit. Daniel finally appears in the doorway, and just smiles. He's covered in bandages, but he beams at Walter, and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. "How you feeling, buddy?"

"...Alive. What--"

"It's a long story, seriously. But Jon exiled that thing from our timeline, so that ought to be the end of it."

"...Where to?"

"...I have no idea, and neither does Jon. But we had to do something."


	15. Sunlight

It's hard to believe the creature is gone, but they keep the cameras running and there's no sign of it. At first Walter is afraid slenderman is still in his dreams, but they resolve into the kind of nightmares anyone would have after nearly killing their... He doesn't know how to say what Daniel is to him, but even after they're reasonably sure they're safe, they keep sharing the bed. It's just so good to wake up beside him, to see how well his wounds are healing in the afternoon sun. One day, when it's too beautiful and he gives into the urge to touch, Daniel opens his eyes and smiles, gazing at him in the heavy golden light. They don't say anything, just let time roll out. Daniel eventually shuts his eyes and sleeps for another hour, leaving Walter to pad into the kitchen in search of sustenance.

Hollis smiles, looking around from the stove, and Walter blushes from the tips of his toes to his hairline, ridiculous in one of Daniel's over-sized t-shirts and bare feet. Hollis has been a steady presence in the background for about two weeks now, but Walter still isn't used to him.

"Afternoon, tiger. How you feeling?"

And he's feeling better than he has in a long, long time, and can't help but smile through his embarrassment. "Pretty good, Mr. Mason."

"You know you're allowed to call me Hollis, right? Sit down." He sits at the kitchen table, and thanks Hollis for the glass of juice the older man brings him. "You like eggs?"

"Yes s-Hollis."

"Scrambled?"

"Please."

"White toast?"

Walter just nods, gripped by overpowering shyness. Hollis just smiles, and fixes eggs, bacon, and toast, setting a full plate in front of Walter and sitting down with his second cup of coffee. "Dan still asleep?"

"Yes." He swallows, not wanting to talk with his mouth full. "Looks much better today."

"He's healing right up." Hollis agrees, and then studies Walter through a cloud of steam. "You know he doesn't hold it against you, right? I don't either."

"...Thank you." He says, so softly he can barely hear himself.

"You're welcome, son."

Dan wakes up alone, and for the first time in far too long, that doesn't terrify him. He gets up and throws on a robe, following the scent of coffee to the kitchen. "Walter?"

"Here." He's sipping coffee, looking about eight years old, and Dan has to grin.

"Good to know. Anything left, Hollis?"

"No, but I can fix that. Bacon and eggs okay?"

"Yeah." He settles down next to Walter, hissing a little. The pain is dim, and he takes Walter's hand under the table when he starts to look guilty. "Buddy, I've been hurt a lot worse for worse reasons." He murmurs, and Walter squeezes his hand.


	16. Darkness

That night, Walter is even quieter and more shy than usual, but under cover of darkness he wraps around Dan, arms and legs both. And Dan can feel that he's about half hard, and that's somehow the hottest thing that has ever happened, and he almost laughs. He stifles it, though, and turns, taking Walter into his arms, tucking his head under his chin and stroking his hair. He feels good, warm and wiry in Dan's arms.

"Daniel..." He says so softly Dan almost doesn't hear it, even at this range.

"Yes?"

And the answer is a soft, clumsy kiss. Walter's lips are chapped, and he's shaking, making a tiny sound into Dan's mouth. "...Oh."

"Yes." Walter says. "Degenerate." He's shivering, and fully hard now, despite his nerves.

"Oh, shut up." Dan kisses him again, and Walter shudders, uncompromising lips opening slightly as he sighs and melts against Dan's chest. They don't go any further tonight, it's too new, delicate kisses and gentle hands in the dark, putting each other back together after everything they've been through. They're nearly silent, no sound but little whimpers and sighs, and the soft rumbling noise Dan makes as he gathers Walter closer. They press against each other, almost comforted by frustrated lust and two pairs of underwear. It's almost childish, and that's what they need now, caresses sliding into sleep in soothing darkness that holds no terrors.


	17. Reclamation

Hollis has never given much thought to queers, but now that his successor seems to have turned out that way, he has to. Really, he's starting to feel like a complete fool, because after catching the Nite Owl/Rorschach Team adding intense man-on-man kissing in a closet to their formidable crimefighting repertoire, he's putting together a few things about HJ and Nelly. He had been looking for a mop, and found them tangled against the shelves like a pair of teenagers, Walter clutching at Dan's hair in a way that had to hurt, Dan holding him up with a double-handed grip on his ass. Though it's entirely academic to Hollis, he has to admit it's a nice one.

Hollis snorts in derisive amusement at himself, and sighs. It's really not funny, since Walter has been hiding in the attic for a good three hours now. Dan has alternately let him alone and pleaded for him to come out, and now he comes back down to the kitchen looking dejected. "No luck?"

"None. Jesus Christ."

"Sorry for frying your partner. Beer?"

"Beer."

They sit and drink in companionable silence, until Dan speaks. "I think it's because he doesn't know if he can be Rorschach anymore."

Hollis sighs. "Dan, I don't really understand just what that thing was or what you boys have been through, but...

"But?"

"He shouldn't let this ruin it. This city needs Rorschach."

Dan smiles, warm and sweet and lighting up his whole face. "So you do approve?"

"Sure, Danny." He smiles. "I don't understand at all, but you two care about each other, and that's the important part."

"...You have no idea how much that means, Hollis."

He smiles sadly, thinking of Ursula. "Maybe I do."

They go back up to talk to Walter together, Dan carrying his mask. "Walter?" Hollis calls through the door.

"...Mr. Mason?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Why don't you come out, son?"

"Filthy. Useless. Should stay in here." Hollis can hear him fighting his wobbling lip, and sighs.

"If you're filthy it's only because Dan's too lazy to clean his attic more than once every two years, you're silly, not useless."

There's a long silence, and the door creaks open. At first there's nothing, then Walter is creeping out from behind the door, looking smaller than life. "It's okay." Dan says, wanting to just bundle his partner into his arms like a kitten, but uncertain how Walter would take it.

"Am not... I can't..." He looks at the mask in Dan's hand and shudders.

"Dammit, don't let him take this from you!" Dan steps closer, takes Walter's hand. "This is your mask, Walter. This is your fucking totem, and even if he gave you the idea, fuck him!" And even though Hollis is there, Dan cups Walter's face in his hands, sticky latex warming against his partner's skin and beginning to move for the first time in far too long. "I know your true face." Dan whispers. "I won't forget it."

Walter shudders all over, and timidly takes the mask from his partner, stepping back to put it on. Hollis already feels like an intruder, but this is like being somewhere sacred when you're not supposed to be. Walter rolls Rorschach's face down, and all of them shiver, just a bit. Then Dan kisses him through the mask. "It's okay, Walter," he breathes, "It's okay."


End file.
